


Michael & Adam Short Stories

by saintmichael



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Short Stories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:34:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 11,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24959980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saintmichael/pseuds/saintmichael
Summary: Small pieces from my tumblr @saintmichaelarchangel.
Relationships: Michael/Adam Milligan
Comments: 3
Kudos: 65





	1. Hobbies

Michael likes to garden.

He wasn’t allowed to garden, back when he was with his family. It wasn’t his ‘thing’, it was Papa and Lucifer’s ‘thing’. If Papa saw Michael in one of the gardens, he would immediately be dragged out and punished for trying to destroy it. But Michael wasn’t trying to destroy anything. He wanted to help the flowers grow, not ruin them.

But Papa said that was not Michael’s role.

Michael lives with Adam now, and Adam doesn’t care about roles. When Michael tentatively approaches him about maybe putting a few plants down, Adam gives him a carefree ‘Go ahead’ that makes his heart sing.

Michael has a lot of plants now. He’s been working hard. A lot of them die more than they should, he knows, but that just makes him more determined to make this work. With practice and care, his garden becomes healthy and thriving.

His touch has been poisonous for eternity. But, he’s realising, that can change. Michael can change.

xx

Adam decides to start a new hobby, too. He’s going to learn to paint.

So much of his short life has been drained of colour. A grim existence, filled with black, white, and red. But Adam’s stubborn. He’s not going to let the ghouls win. He’s not going to let the Cage win.

He pours the vibrancy of his soul onto the canvas, and it’s liberating. Sure, he has almost zero technical know-how. He took a mandatory semester of art in high school, and that was it. But he’s not trying to make a masterpiece. He’s just creating. And it feels good.

His roommate doesn’t really understand human art, but that’s okay, because Adam’s paintings don’t resemble human art anyway. If Adam does paint a recognisable object, Michael will authoritatively point to it and say, “That’s a kettle.” (Or whatever.) His seriousness never fails to make Adam smile.

Usually, though, Adam just spreads colours on the canvas, in swirls that don’t really resemble anything but make his eyes happy. He makes dozens of these, and hangs them up all over the house. He frequently finds Michael standing in front of those, hands clasped behind his back, quietly trying to puzzle them out.

“Sorry, sorry,” he says, futilely trying to pull his statue-like roommate away. “It doesn’t mean anything. Don’t worry about it.”

Michael fixes him with a piercing stare and says, “They’re your Creation. They mean everything, to me.”

Oh. Michael sometimes has a kind of poetic way of speaking that makes Adam weak at the knees - not that he’d ever admit it. Instead, he shrugs and goes, “Well, if you wanna stare at them, be my guest.”

“Thank you,” Michael says, earnestly.

Adam decides to paint Michael. It’s pretty hard to fit someone who exists in a dozen dimensions onto a 2D canvas, but Adam gives it his best shot. He tries to get a few of his faces in there, and there are definitely several pairs of wings, but for the most part it’s swirls of colours again.

“That’s not my fault,” he tells himself. “That’s just what he looks like, right?” Golds, blues, silvers. He touches the dried paint with a quiet yearning, and wonders if anyone else understands the beauty of this creature.

He invites Michael to look at it. “What do you think?”

Michael is peering at it, and Adam can’t help but grin when he turns to him and says, like a parent with their five year old’s drawing, “What is it meant to be?”

“It’s you.” He slips his arm through Michael’s, leaning on him. “How you look when you’re not pretending to be human, I mean.”

“Ah.” Michael turns back to peruse it with renewed vigour. He’s smiling. “Is this how you see me?”

It sounds neutral, and Adam is a little terrified. Did he draw something offensive to the archangel? He swallows and says, “Yeah, of course.”

Michael kneels before him all of a sudden and looks up at him. “I am humbled,” he says. “You think me beautiful.”

Relieved, Adam laughs. “Yeah,” he agrees. “You didn’t know?”


	2. Raphael

There’s a knocking on the door as Adam is sprawled over the couch, watching tv while shovelling chips down his mouth. He lazily rises to answer it, but it’s Michael who cautiously walks to the door, as Adam obediently recedes into their shared space.

Michael unlatches and unlocks the front door, frowning down at their visitor as it opens. “Raphael,” he greets stoically. “This is unexpected.”

“Michael,” she responds, also cold. Their relationship hadn’t been at the strongest during the apocalypse, but this was something else. “Father has asked me to pay you a visit.”

“Oh?” Michael replies, hoping to sound non chalant. Obviously it was Father that had resurrected Raphael, who else could? It was more surprising that he had chosen Raphael, of the three of them. Raphael had always been too quiet and sensible for Father’s liking.

“Yes, brother, now may I come inside?” she coaxes. “I see no point in us standing out here.” She indicates the rundown apartment hallway with a look of disgust, which only grows more scornful as Michael reluctantly leads the way into Adam’s apartment.

“This is your base of operations?” Raphael says, picking up a can of Coke on the kitchen table and staring at it. “This is empty,” she adds helpfully, and throws it in the bin.

“This is Adam’s home,” Michael corrects her. “I have no operations, Raph. Did our Father tell you I did?”

“No - he did mention that you seemed to be mentally ill, but…” she swoops her finger across the kitchen counter and collects some sticky fluid on it. “This is a little bit beyond what I was expecting.”

Michael smiles patiently. “I’m not mentally ill. No need to worry.”

“The most fastidious angel in Heaven is now living in the filthiest house on Earth,” she says angrily. “Clearly, something has gone wrong here!” She picks up a cheese stick wrapper and disintegrates it.

“No,” Michael says. “Adam had some friends over last night and they made a bit of a mess. Since it’s Adam’s mess, not mine, he will be cleaning it up himself.” This troubles him to say. He would rather Adam just let Michael clean up after him so it would be done with, but Adam insisted that he take care of it himself. After watching tv for a few hours. From the look on Raphael’s face, she understands that Michael is struggling, although she doesn’t seem too sympathetic.

“I see. So this is what it’s like to live with a monkey. Good grief, Michael, why subject yourself to this?”

“Adam’s a human, not a monkey. And I think you’re making a mountain out of a molehill, my dear. It’s not like we’ve got mold growing anywhere. In fact, this place is much cleaner than most of Heaven at any given time.”

She harrumphs. “Heaven would be a good deal tidier if you were up there rather than living in a slum on Earth.”

Michael is quiet at that. Raphael stares at him imploringly. “Surely you cannot be enjoying yourself down here. Your place is in Heaven. You know this.”

“Raphael,” Michael says gently. “Our Father sent you here to discuss my returning to Heaven?”

“He - Father wants to discuss something with you,” she says. “He did not say what, exactly. But surely -“”

“In that case, Raphael, this will be directed at you rather than Father,” Michael says, brimming with forced calmness. “I ran a tight ship for eight millennia. Those rats that we call angels tore it to pieces in ten years of my absence. I have been fixing other people’s problems since my incarnation but this is ridiculous. How thoughtless, how inconsiderate, how insulting it is for you to suggest it is my responsibility to do penance for their crimes against me. I am furious, Raphael. Good grief.”

He wonders if he has maintained his calm facade. From the way Raphael has shrunk away from him, possibly not.

“Yikes,” Adam says. Oh. Michael thought his vessel had gone to sleep.

“Nope. Aren’t you being a bit harsh? She’s not the one who ruined the place, right?”

“You’re wrong,” Michael answers him, but he doesn’t bother keeping it internal, and Raphael looks at him with confusion. “Raphael could have prevented the countless civil wars by correctly executing the insurgent Castiel. She’s as culpable as the rest of them.”

“Michael, I - that’s not -“” she protests, weakly. Her cold demeanour has become a little more vulnerable, and she’s nervously clenching her fists. To Michael’s surprise, he can feel Adam trying to surge to the top of their shared consciousness. “Adam, stop - we’re in danger,” he instructs silently. Adam ignores him and with a concentrated effort, knocks him from control.

Adam blinks, tensing and releasing the muscles in his body to feel them and then smiles at the hesitant archangel. “Sorry about that,” he says, putting on the charm. “He’s a little sensitive on that topic. We haven’t had the chance to work through it yet.”

“You - ah,” she looks puzzled. “You’re the vessel. Adam Milligan.”

“Yeah,” Adam says, and holds his hand out for her to shake. “Raphael, right? Nice to meet you.”

She doesn’t take it. “Father warned me about you,” she tells him. “You’ve tricked Michael into obeying you instead of Father.” Adam laughs openly at that, and she looks scandalised.

“If Michael’s gonna obey me, he can start by taking a chill pill.” He pokes Michael’s grace, curled around his soul, and gets a surly growl back. “He’s not really mad at you. He’s just upset that all of that stuff happened outside of his control. He’s not blaming you for your own murder.” Right? he adds silently to Michael, but doesn’t get much of a response.

“…I know that,” she says slowly. Adam doesn’t quite believe her, but fine. “I am his sister, after all.”

“Great,” Adam says. He wanders over to the fridge and grabs a Coke. “You want something to drink?”

“No,” she says, frowning. “Michael, stop hiding behind your pet monkey and come speak to me at once.”

“Pet monkey? Is that meant to mean me?” Adam asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Of course it means you, you ugly little primate.” Adam shrugs and sips his Coke. Michael also got mean when he was uncomfortable, so Adam isn’t too shaken by it.

“So am I his pet or his new God? Not really sure how I can be both.”

“Silence,” she hisses. “I’m tired of dealing with you creatures. You should have all been purged ten years ago. I’m glad Father seems to be correcting course now.”

“Is that what he wants Michael for? To purge humanity?” Adam asks curiously. “Like, he’s never done the job himself, has he?”

“I don’t know,” she snaps. “Michael, speak to me.”

There’s no response from Michael, and Adam reaches inwardly to see how he’s doing. The archangel has hidden his consciousness quite far down, which is a surprise to Adam. Considering they’ve got an archangel sent from God standing in their kitchen, Michael’s consciousness would ordinarily be tensed up next to his, ready to take over in an instant when things turn nasty. “Michael?” he whispers silently. Still nothing. Ah, shit. She’s looking pretty angry.

“I think he’s really upset, sorry,” Adam tries. “You should probably go.” Her eyes narrow and her nostrils flare. Adam winces and takes some steps backwards, accidentally stumbling into the couch behind him.

“Father wants Michael to come see Him,” she enunciates punchily. “Is that too much to ask?”

Adam personally thinks Father can go fuck himself, but with Michael mentally curled into a ball he’s not quite that stupid to say it to his puppet’s face. “That’s great,” he says instead. “Uh - what’s the address?”

“What?” she says.

“We can’t come now, but maybe we’ll come by later,” he explains. “Where did he want Michael to meet him?”

“I’m to bring Michael to him,” she says, but she seems uncertain.

“Michael’s busy today. Look, your Father obviously knows where we live, why doesn’t he just come by himself?”

She’s about to reply, but suddenly cocks her head and looks vacant for a few seconds. Adam takes the interval to try one last attempt at rustling Michael out of his funk, but no dice. Raphael’s head snaps back into position and she smiles eerily at Adam. “Perhaps He will,” she intones, in a manner distinct from how she’s been speaking the entire rest of her visit.

She shakes her head and in a more normal voice continues, “Michael, please do consider coming back to Heaven. I think with all the angels gone it’ll be far more peaceful to run. I know neither of us were ever particularly pleased with their performance.”

“He’ll think about it. Thanks,” Adam tells her. With a dramatic sigh, she tosses her head and strides out of their tiny apartment. Adam locks and latches the door and flops back on the couch, tired, stressed and scared.

“Michael? You okay, sweetheart?” Adam mumbles down into his chest, rubbing where he thinks Michael’s grace lives. He feels the tiniest response of Michael reaching out to him, probably just to reasssure him that he’s still alive. Adam lies on the couch for a while, staring into the ceiling, before he can’t help noticing the stains and remembering the archangels bitching about the mess.

“I wasn’t going to leave it like this,” Adam says as he gets his cleaning stuff out and starts cleaning up. “You do know that right?” He laughs.

The next day, their house hasn’t been smote or anything so Adam figures he can’t have messed up too bad. Michael is still being far too quiet but he’s replying to Adam a bit and that’s good enough for him.

They get another knock on their door and Adam nervously looks through the peephole to see it’s Raphael again. “Uh, Michael? Did you want to take over?” he asks the other.

“No,” Michael mumbles. “Shame. Ashamed.”

“Well, perfect. You can be a good big brother and apologise to her. Go on.” He tried to recede his consciousness but Michael stubbornly stays back. Adam sighs and schools his expression into neutrality before answering the door.

“Michael?” she says, searching his face, but before he even has time to answer she shakes her head and says, “No. The vessel again.”

“Uh, hi,” Adam says awkwardly. “God sent you back? Really?”

“No,” she says unexpectedly. “This is a personal visit. I brought this for Michael.” She holds up a sports bag that looks full.

“Oh - uhh,” Adam says awkwardly.

She clarifies, “Some of Michael’s personal items from his office in Heaven. I thought he might like to have them close by, even if he wasn’t willing to go into Heaven to get them.”

Adam’s eyebrows shoot up. “Oh, cool. Um, I think he thought everything would have been looted by now.” He can feel Michael’s interest has perked and he’s nudging Adam to look in the bag. “If you wanna look at it, feel free to take over and do it,” he tells him.

“When Michael,” she pauses, “When he first became imprisoned, I made sure to secure his office. He’s always been a little careless with his belongings.”

“Really? Huh. Michael, don’t you want to thank Raphael for being so considerate?” He doesn’t mean to talk to Michael like a child, but he can’t help it. Michael finally soars his consciousness to the surface, and Adam readily steps back.

“Raphael. Thank you,” Michael says, not meeting his sister’s eyes. He opens the bag and realises with some amusement that Slippery Slug is sitting on top of everything else. He pulls the toy out of the bag and allows it to slide around his vessel’s body.

“You’re welcome, Michael,” she says cautiously. “Are you still mad at me?”

“No,” he replies, still cowardly looking at the bag. “Adam was right. I was blaming you for your own death… how cruel. I’m sorry.”

He senses Raphael’s surprise. Apologising isn’t something they do; certainly not an older sibling apologising to a younger one. But Michael’s not too sure that paradigm is one he wants to continue any more.

“You were right though,” Raphael says softly. “I did not handle the civil war correctly. Much tragedy could have been avoided if I did.”

Here, Michael is angered, and he does look Raphael in the eye. “Raphael,” he says sharply, and she is startled by the change in tone. “Do you think I don’t think that every day about the war with Helael? And so many more lives were lost then.”

“Michael, I-”

“No, let me finish,” he reproaches. “It’s easy to say in hindsight, ‘You should have done this or that’. But at the time, you did the best you could with what you had. I should not be scolding you for not acting as I would have. With my track record, I should be praising it instead. When our Father is acting against us, there is no hope of victory. Acting decisively as I suggested would have only led to an unhappier end. So, my apologies for reprimanding you. It was arrogant and cruel of me.”

“Is that a good apology?” he asks Adam internally. Adam just laugh and bubbles up against his grace.

Raphael looks uneasy. “I understand, Michael. I accept, I suppose.” She laces her fingers together in front of her. “Will you be returning to Heaven with me?” 

“No.” Raphael looks like she’s about to argue, so Michael quickly continues, “Raphael, it’s been my prison for millennia. Bound there by my duty… even being in the Cage was liberating compared to that. I have no intention of rebinding myself so soon. So, consider me officially on holiday.”

“I see,” Raphael says. Her human eyes are blank, but Michael can see the smiles of her true eyes peeking out at him. “Well, I wouldn’t have brought your things if I thought you were coming straight back. Do enjoy yourself, brother.”

“Yes,” he agrees. He pulls her hands forward and grasps them in his own. “Raphael, stay safe, dearest. Flight over fight, am I clear?”

She squeezes back and says, “As you wish.” She steps back and gives him an odd look, and Michael tilts his head in response. “I hope for your sake your - Adam learns to clean up after himself. He seemed tolerable otherwise.”

Michael smiles and says, “I find him very tolerable indeed.” She flies off.

They return indoors and Michael happily plays with Slippery Slug. “She seemed a lot nicer than yesterday,” Adam comments wryly. “It didn’t seem like she was about to smite me once just then.”

Michael chuckles. “It takes her a bit to warm up. But I think you impressed her when you stood up for her yesterday. We’re not used to people defending us.”

“I know,” Adam says. “You’re not used to kindness in general.”

“You’re spoiling me,” Michael says. “Now I don’t want to be with anyone that’s not kind to me all the time.”

Adam makes a face. “That’s not spoiling you, that’s what you’re supposed to want. You’re the opposite of spoiled.”

“Mm,” Michael says lightly, avoiding disagreeing with him directly. “Do you want to play with Slippery Slug?” 

“That’s okay,” Adam says, laughing. “You look like you’re having the time of your life.”

He curls on the corner of the couch and watches Michael continue to be entertained by the toy for far longer than he would have imagined.


	3. Can you run from god?

Croatia. Peru. New Zealand. Yemen. Malaysia. _There. There. There. There._

As his nervous angel flitted from place to place, Adam’s concern started to turn to queasiness. He could handle flying so long as it was in one direction, but when Michael got jumpy and started criss-crossing all over the globe, it was a little too much for the human to handle.

 _Michael, I think that’s enough, honey. They’ve probably lost our scent by now_ , he muttered at his angel, careful not to think who ‘ _they’_ was. Michael could be running from the Winchesters, who had just captured them, after all. And they could reasonably evade two humans and a fallen seraph.

Much better to think about than the alternative.

Canada. Ethiopia. Russia.

 _Michael, please,_ Adam said softly, and felt Michael halt abruptly mid-take-off.

“We’re not safe. We need to keep moving. We’re going to be found.” Adam could feel Michael’s grace wrapped around his soul convulsing in tiny but rapid vibrations.

_I think we’ve moved enough for tonight. How about - how about we find a hotel or something and you can have a lie down, ok?_

Michael turned the side of lip up in a derisive smirk and returned, “I don’t need to lie down, Adam. You know this.”

Ok - he’d use a different tactic. Michael was an instrument he’d learned how to play perfectly over their time together.

_But I do. And I - I think it’s gonna be bad for my psyche if we’re flying around like this without a break. Right? So maybe you could find somewhere safe for me to stay tonight. You can do that for me, right?_

As Adam spoke, he felt Michael’s grace slow in its jittering and return to a steadier thrum around him. The archangel frowned in thought and said, “Yes, of course I can do that for you, Adam. Your well-being is one of my highest priorities.”

He had a look around - moving Adam’s head as he did so, as if he were viewing the snow-covered forest around them, even though he was actually scanning the entirety of Earth at once with millions of eyes a dozen dimensions above - and flew once more.

They landed in front of an overgrown broken-down cottage. It was pleasantly warm here, and the sun high in the sky, and Adam could smell the ocean on the breeze even with Michael in control.

 _You’re taking me on a beach trip? Aww, Mike, you shouldn’t have,_ he teased, but Michael ignored him, focusing on the task at hand. He approached the decaying brickwork and gave it a tap, sending a wave of power that pulsed through the building, restoring the structure before their eyes.

He took them into the cottage and firmly shut the door behind them, sealing it and covering it with wards with his grace. He took a quick glance at the barren space and snapped his fingers, providing the room with light and filling it with furniture for his human’s comfort.

Michael abruptly released control of the vessel - “Uh,” Adam said automatically in surprise as he took over - and stepped away from Adam as an apparition, continuing to analyse the area with a soldier’s eye. “We’re good, then?”

 _For now,_ Michael replied sharply, no warmth on his face or in his voice. _You may lie down, as you requested. I will continue to ward this building from - prying eyes._

 _“_ Uh, ok then.” Adam wandered over to where Michael had placed a wardrobe and took a hopeful peek inside, but it was empty. Well, at least he was trying. Adam could go over the fine points of the purpose of furniture when his angel was a little less highly strung.

Instead, he stripped down to his boxers and a strange sense of freedom overcame him as he tossed his clothes onto the wardrobe. “Oh, _wow,”_ he breathed to himself.

Michael glanced over as he said that so he quickly explained, “I just took off the clothes I’ve been wearing for ten years.” And as soon as he said that, he was instantly drained of energy and quickly grabbed the bed as he collapsed on top of it.

This performance was enough to wring a dry chuckle out of Michael and he came over to watch Adam struggle to get underneath the covers. He stroked Adam’s hair with his ghost-hands and said, _Adam, I’m s-_

“No,” Adam interrupted. “You’re not allowed to apologise, remember? Because you already apologised and I accepted and that’s that. No point apologising for the same thing over and over.”

Michael looked a bit hesitant, but this was a battle they had fought often, and Adam won every time. So he instead accepted it with a guilty nod.

“And come join me in bed, you made this thing way too fucking big.”

_That’s OK Adam, I need to finish warding the building. It will take me some time._

“Yeah, except you’re not physically standing there, you’re physically inside my body, so it obviously doesn’t matter where your apparition thing is standing when you do that. So just come cuddle me so I can get to sleep.” His voice was starting to slur from drowsiness, and he weakly patted the space he had made next to him.

Michael’s guilt-stricken face softened slightly into an amused smile, and he said _I can’t argue with that, Mr. Milligan. Flawless logic as always._ He sat next to Adam on the bed, and continued gently stroking his hair. _I will protect you tonight, and every night. Sleep well.  
_

Swaddled by the warmth of the blankets, and Michael’s gently humming grace, Adam quickly sunk into a deep and restful sleep.


	4. Flickering lights

The lights in their apartment kept flickering, and Adam was getting sick of it.

He’d replaced all of the lightbulbs three times, and had Michael check the wiring for him. No improvements.

Their little home had been warded to the high heavens, with every trick the thirteen billion year old archangel knew, but he still had Michael check for ghosts or whatever other creature might be causing it. But there was nothing.

That left Michael - but Adam couldn’t figure out why his angel would be making the lights flicker and not cop to it. It seemed to be happening at utterly mundane moments, when the archangel would have no cause to be angry or upset.

But one evening, Adam was spread across Michael’s lap, playing on his phone as the archangel sprawled comfortably in their armchair, and the lights flickered again. Adam glanced up at Michael, who had been staring at him with a soft smile on his face, and said, “Michael? Everything ok there?”

He gently replied, “Yes, Adam. Everything is perfect.”

“Then why are the lights -” he started, and then sighed as the obvious finally occurred to him.

Michael cocked his head. “The lights? You’ve been very concerned with them, haven’t you.” He twisted around in his seat to look at the room around them.

Adam sat up and pulled Michael’s head back towards him, who came willingly, and gave him a kiss on the forehead. His coffee mug on the nearby table shattered, and the power went completely out for a couple of seconds. When it came back on, Michael had an evident expression of embarrassment on his face.

“Michael? I know I’m extremely loveable, but you gotta find a better way of expressing it, sweetheart,” Adam teased.

“I - yes, Adam. I’ve become undisciplined. I apologise.”

“That’s okay, Mike. If it were me with the love-induced superpowers, this whole building would be rubble by now.”

“That would be less than ideal,” Michael agreed, and they settled back into their positions on the chair.


	5. Partner

Jack wakes up one morning, and an envelope has appeared on his bedside table. He opens it to find a letter from Michael inviting him to breakfast at a cafe that morning, giving him an address but not a time. Puzzled, but cautiously optimistic, he brings it to Sam. Sam and Castiel agree to accompany him to this breakfast since he does want to go.

They enter the cafe around 10, and see Michael sitting at a table, furiously tapping away at a laptop. He looks up when they approach, and his face stiffens. “Hello,” he greets warily.

“Hello,” says Jack. “I’m Jack,” he says after an awkward pause. Michael nods. 

“Yes,” he agrees. “Sit.”

They sit around the tiny table and Michael packs the laptop away into a bag sitting at his feet. “And how are you doing, Jack?” he inquires.

“I’m okay,” Jack says uncertainly.

“Good. And how about your education?”

“My education?”

“Are you attending school, or perhaps doing some remote learning?” Michael presses. Jack glances at Sam before answering.

“Um, no. I’m not.” 

“I see. Well, we think it would be best if you began some form of education. I am happy to teach you myself, if you prefer.”

Jack hesitates. “We?”

“Adam and myself.” At Jack’s questioning look, he continues, “Adam Milligan, my human partner. My better half, as they say.”

“Oh,” Jack smiles. “Are you in love?”

“Yes,” Michael says. “Fervently.”


	6. Faith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Archangels are made of faith. In God, or themselves. Without it, they fall apart.

Michael is falling though. One way or the other.

How could he not? He’s lost all of his faith, all at once. Cutting himself off from Heaven, from God, would be no different from having those connections burn out naturally, while he lies coiled in Adam’s physicallity, miserable and hopeless.

Adam didn’t expect him to fall this hard, this fast, and Michael is sorry about that. But he doesn’t change on his position on Michael’s Father, so Michael knows it’s his honest opinion. If Adam would relent, just a little bit, and say perhaps there was some mistake, Michael would rush back to his Father in an instant and beg for forgiveness.

He’s losing everything. Their home is covered in a carpet of dagger-sharp feathers. Michael incinerates them whenever he has the strength, but more and more fall out each day. His Grace is draining rapidly too, with neither faith nor confidence in sufficient stock to sustain it, and he’s become a terrible burden on his vessel.

Adam had been telling Michael his Father was not a good person since they had begun opening up to each other in the Cage. Perhaps if Michael had listened then, not dismissed the sentiments as coming from mortal ignorance, they would not be in as much pain as they are now.

Adam must work for food and shelter. They are necessities to him once more, not luxuries. Michael is nothing but a heavy weight inside his chest and on his back, dragging him down constantly. He frequently suggests to Adam that he exorcise Michael from his body, as Michael is unable to leave voluntarily, and let Michael crawl into a hole and die. Adam refuses most steadfastly though. Michael can’t understand it.

“Would you do the same to me, if our positions were reversed?” Adam asks, in that same thoughtful tone he always uses. Of course not. But that’s different. Adam is good, and Michael is bad. Michael is not worth saving. “Nah,” Adam says, easily. “If you were really bad, you wouldn’t have fallen. Because you wouldn’t care. But you do, and that means something.”

Adam has faith in him, he knows. If Adam won’t get rid of him, he’ll have to start rebuilding his own. He can’t keep hurting Adam.

It’s not impossible to repair himself, he knows. There are quite a few methods, some of them non-harmful, even. Faith is important to angels, and luckily for Michael, Father included his name in his holy texts quite a few times.

They relocate themselves to a particular rural town with a particular church. The people there believe Michael the Archangel is God, and worship them there. There are quite a few similar sects, even if they are all tiny. In Heaven, Michael looked upon these cults with scorn. But now they are his lifeline.

Human faith is powerful. They attend church with everyone else and sit there quietly. There’s no need to draw attention to themselves. As service is performed, the worship of the attendees flows straight to Michael beyond their perception, restoring his grace. Slowly, but surely.

Feeling a little better, he is able to communicate to Adam in more detail. He had already taught Adam some magic in the Cage, but now he can point out particular spells and potions that is useful to him in daily life.

“Are you *sure* there isn’t a healing spell for you?” Adam will ask every once in a while, knowing that Michael will smile and shake his head. Perhaps with a few more millennia of training, he would trust Adam to repair breaks and disease in his divine essence. But there’s nothing for Falling that Adam isn’t already doing.

He hurts. He hurts, he hurts, he hurts. But Adam won’t let him give up on himself. So he doesn’t. And together, they rebuild him.


	7. nomads

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam is drifting. But Michael was born drifting.

Time.

Such a difficult dimension to quantify.

The order in which events occur, relative to one another. To a mortal, inside of it, it was easy enough to understand. Different events had different durations, and could occur on the same _space_ but at different _times_.

From Michael’s perspective, however, everything is occurring inside the same field of space-time. He logically knows that most people travel through time as if it were a one-way street, and that he appears to have the same limitation. But sometimes he forgets.

There are parts of the continuum that are changing, mutable. The ‘future’. It has yet to be set in stone, but it _exists_. Michael knows not to look too closely at those parts, for if they are observed, they will be locked in that state. If the ‘future’ is locked, the universe will contort itself to reach that point, and the fabric of space-time will become damaged.

Adam is worrying. The young man has had trouble readjusting to a life of relative freedom. To cope, he drifts from town to town, job to job, terrified of settling down and becoming _trapped_.

He is worrying about Michael, that Michael will leave him for this. It is true that Michael would prefer to settle down and build a home with his new family. But that _will_ happen. If he and Adam were truly dissimilar in intentions, they would have parted once they left captivity.

In the beginning, Michael knows, Dark separated from Light. The ‘first’ event Michael observed. Sequentially, Michael’s separation from Light followed. Father and son were made by each other’s creation. Growth is encouraged by such a change in state.

And as separation could create Michael, so too could joining recreate him. Every second he spends entwined with Adam’s soul expands his universe a thousandfold. He is broken and made anew every day. 

He is infinitely grateful to the boy, and seeks to soothe his fears. He has been afraid to move, recently, backwards _and_ forwards - back into the stinging pain of Lucifer’s betrayal, and forwards into the final consequences of that betrayal. But he has been dragged, finally, by the stern current of time that other creatures travel, and he is in the future that he has feared for so long.

But it is not so terrible. He has a human friend, who is scared of all the wrong things. And he will be brave, for his sake.

He goes forward, so that the future can happen. As Adam’s confidence develops, he grows calmer and happier. They settle down in one city, although Adam is still changing jobs fairly frequently. He’s young, though. Michael doesn’t think there’s any shame in that.

He floats back to the period where Adam is worried. There is a low point, where Adam stays too long at a serving job he hates, that Michael needs to assist with.

“I’m surprised,” Michael says, as Adam carries dirty dishes through the tiny hallway to the kitchen. Adam halts a bit in surprise before carrying on. 

“Yeah?”

“This seems like such a difficult job, but they pay minimum wage,” Michael says. “How strange.”

“That’s because people don’t pay you according to how difficult a job is,” Adam explains. “Just the lowest amount they think they can get away with. Only desperate people wanna do this shitty job, so they don’t bother paying well.”

Michael smiles. People either don’t explain things to him, because they assume he knows everything, or they talk down to him like an idiot who knows nothing. Adam is the only one who talks to him like he’s an ordinary person who has ordinary gaps in knowledge.

“Perhaps you should look for a kind job that pays well then,” Michael suggests. “Then we could have more spending money.”

“Am I not spoiling you enough, sweetheart?” Adam says drily. “Besides, I wanna stick at it for a while. People aren’t gonna wanna hire me if I’ve been at a billion different jobs in one year.” Michael isn’t sure that maths is right. “I wanna look reliable.”

“You are reliable,” Michael says gently, wrapping himself around Adam. This is how Adam convinces him to do things, so he hopes it’ll work in reverse. “Please quit this place. It’s making you miserable.”

Adam relaxes into him. “I don’t want to give up, though. I need to start making an effort.”

“You can make an effort at a different job,” Michael says firmly, and when Adam genuinely grins, he knows he’s won.

He detaches a little, and floats back above space-time. There’s a nasty wall of rapidly-changing event spikes in the continuum coming up soon. Michael makes a note to handle those with care. But for now, he settles back down with Adam and decides not to drift around too much. Time will be more special if they travel through it together. Perhaps one day, Michael will even understand it.


	8. Courtship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vague period AU where Michael is a wealthy noble visiting the Winchester family, and has fallen in love with the youngest son.

“In that case,” the lordship murmurs, “I will have to seek an audience with your mother.”

“My mother?” Adam asks, with hesitance.

“To ask for your courtship,” Michael says, clasping his hands in his lap as he gazes at Adam. “Is her ladyship away at present? I do confess I haven’t yet been introduced to a Lady Milligan at this household.”

“She’s dead,” Adam says, his throat constricting as he speaks. He pushes the feeling down inside him.

“My condolences,” the lordship says, but he doesn’t seem fazed. “Where was she buried?”

***

So now Adam’s standing here, in his shitty cheap suit, arms clasped behind his back as he watches the wealthiest man in the country kneel prostate before his mother’s grave.

“Lady Milligan,” Michael says reverently, “I have come to ask for your permission to court your son, Adam.”

Is this guy... for real? Adam rubs his fingers together with discomfort. If this is a joke, it’s in pretty fucking bad taste.But the look of absolute sincerity in the lordship’s eyes suggests he’s actually just much more peculiar than Adam realised.

“I am sorry to bother you while you rest in Heaven, but if you could send a sign to us on Earth that we have your permission, I would greatly appreciate it.” 

Michael waits. But the tiny graveyard is dead still. There’s not even the smallest breeze ruffling the grass. As nothing continues to happen for several minutes, Michael is visibly wilting. He turns to Adam and says, “Perhaps your mother is busy at present.” His tone is far more hopeless than his words belie.

He turns back to the grave and bows his head. Adam is starting to feel kinda bad for the guy. Adam had lost faith in this stuff years ago, but Lord Michael seemed to believe in it pretty wholeheartedly. He couldn’t imagine his mother ever disapproving of the lordship, so with zero guilt in his heart, he quietly picks a dandelion out of the grass and throws it at Michael. It manages to stick in the lordship’s hair without him noticing.

“Whoa,” Adam says, loudly, and Michael turns to gaze at him. “Did something fly into your hair just now?”

Michael pats his head in confusion and pulls the dandelion out. He stares at it with concern. “A weed? Is that a no, then?”

“Oh, no, no,” Adam says hastily. “You blow on them and make wishes, you know. So they’re good. I think Mom’s saying yes.”

Michael’s face brightens at his words. “Thank you, my lady,” he says to the grave, and rises. He brushes the dirt off his knees and bows to Adam. “And you, my lord Milligan, would you be willing to-”

“Yes,” Adam says impatiently. He grabs Michael’s hand and pulls him along. Michael goes along willingly, probably out of surprise. “Let’s get back inside already, it’s _freezing_ out here.”

Michael smiles and places the dandelion into his suit pocket as his new courtee drags him back to the house.


	9. Into the void

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Archangels are primordial beings. They cannot cease to exist. If they die, they simply begin life anew.  
> Michael travels to the space beyond space to ensure that his brothers have correctly started their new lifecycle.

Michael hums the tune of his spell as he sprinkles crushed amethyst into the bowl of clear lagoon water. This seance is too advanced for simple words to handle, after all. Next he puts in gold flakes, and finally, strands of saffron, only just mixing in each ingredient.

“This is an expensive spell,” Adam says candidly. “Sometimes I forget you’re a prince.”

Michael cautiously halts the spell-song in order to focus on Adam’s words. “Adam, I need to focus on the seance. Is there an issue?”

Adam laughs from his soul. “No, sorry. Just being silly.”

Michael normally enjoys when Adam is silly, but this spell is delicate. He continues the spell-song from where he left off, tracing runes above the bowl with his finger to empower the water. Once it has been blessed with the power of astral movement, it needs direction. Michael places in a precise formation around the bowl essences of the four forces of the cosmos. For time and gravity, he simply places feathers to the north and south of the bowl. He’s more sentimental when it comes to the younger two, and places more meaningful objects of theirs, still infused with their essence, to the east and west of the bowl. He sighs a little as he places Gabriel’s face jewellery to the east. He still doesn’t know where he went wrong with that one.

“Everything okay, your highness?” Adam says, serious despite his teasing tone. “We can always do this another time.”

“Yes,” Michael agrees. “Tonight will be fine, however.” He knows Adam is uncomfortable with the small chance that the seance goes so badly that Michael is trapped out in the void for an extended period of time. If Adam was a more selfish lover, he would not support this endeavour at all. But he knows how important this is to Michael.

The forces of the universe are nothing without the two primal elements, light and dark. Michael has retrieved from his most secure storage the concentrated essences of both and carefully drops one drop of darkness to the northwest and southeast, and lightness to the northeast and southwest.

The air around them is now crackling with the power of the spell. Michael gets up to inspect the wards all over the room; they are holding firm. Still, he reinforces them even further with his grace before returning to the bowl.

“Kacha, neshir, vibrim,” he whispers to his brothers. Gabriel and Raphael’s items vibrate gently in response to his words, but Helael’s feather remains still. Michael frowns at it. He hopes it is simply because Gabriel and Raphael are close to one another in the void, and far away from Helael, such that the spell has decided it is optimal to point at them. If the feather is too old to locate Helael... perhaps Michael should have ripped one of Lucifer’s out, in the Cage. He’ll find an alternative, should he need to.

“The spell is active,” he tells Adam. “It has located the younger ones. I will travel to them now.”

“Right,” says Adam, with a nervousness he doesn’t have much these days. Michael rubs against him soothingly.

“If I signal to you there’s an emergency, or if I take over a minute to respond, simply pull your head out of the bowl,” Michael reminds him. “It will sever our connection to the void. You need not worry.”

“Except if you’re stuck there and it severs my connection to you as well,” Adam mutters.

“I can survive there. It is my birthplace. You cannot.” There is no need for further discussion on this point, in Michael’s opinion. Besides, with both God and the Darkness hanging out in God’s universe, there is nothing that would prevent Michael from returning in reasonable time anyway.

“Yeah,” Adam sighs. “Let’s just get it over with.”

Michael sits in the seat besides the bowl. He leans back, dipping his head inside the water, and surrenders control of the body to Adam. The gate he’s conjured is pulling at him, but not at Adam; the feather north of the bowl has attuned it to him. Michael relaxes his mental defences and allows his consciousness to be pulled down, down, into the depths of the water, before it’s flung forward, on a beam of radiant gold, propelling his mind out of his Father’s universe and into the empty space where all things primal were born. Or reborn, in this case.

The tiny sparks of life that are Gabriel and Raphael have somehow found each other, and are flitting at and around each other. It seems like they’re playing with each other, although Michael is aware that at this stage in their reincarnation, they’re doubtlessly entirely mindless. Still, he can pretend for a while that his baby brothers are playing tag with one another.

“We good?” he hears Adam ask, from an infinity away. He hurts a little at the realisation of how far apart they are at the moment, but responds simply -

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

He moves closer to the little ones - as expected, Raphael is a bit bigger than Gabriel, having died longer ago than he. They both look like they’ve reincarnated healthily, to Michael’s relief. He feels a little less like a terrible older brother now.

“You kids haven’t seen Helael, have you?” he murmurs to the small masses of particles that were once Gabriel and Raphael. No response, of course. “Causing trouble, as usual.” He reluctantly turns from the younger two and scans the great expanse of the void around him. No good. He can’t see anything aside from God’s universe in the void, and Lucifer died even more recently than Gabriel, so he’ll be even tinier. Michael needs the spell to direct him.

“Adam,” he calls back to his vessel. “Could you remove the jewellery and the small book from the gate?”

“Uhh, sure,” is the muted response back. To Michael’s disappointment, even with nothing pulling him to Gabriel and Raphael, he still cannot feel any pull to Helael. He soars around a bit regardless, just in case Helael was lurking near the younger ones, but nothing. He’ll have to find something with a stronger connection.

“Adam-“ he says, intending to ask to be pulled back, but he checks himself as he says it and finds two little infant archangels have managed to cling onto their older brother’s consciousness.

“What’s wrong?” Adam asks, as Michael attempts to peel them off, but they’re hanging on very tightly.

“One moment. Sorry.” He’s able to pull one off, but as soon as he turns his attention to the other one, it’ll stick right back on Michael.

“Please, this isn’t a game,” he says, uselessly. They can’t understand him in their present state. They are naturally inclined to join with the large noise-and-movement-making being that has suddenly appeared in their world. That must be how they found each other, Michael thinks. Does that mean Helael isn’t here, if they haven’t also joined up with him yet?

“You need to be a little more grown-up before you rejoin me in Father’s creation,” he informs them, and manages to pluck both of them off at the same time.

“Adam, now please,” he says politely, and he is jerked back into reality with the sound of splashing water as Adam quickly pulls his head out of the bowl, accidentally knocking it over in the process.

“Oops,” says Adam as he turns to look at the mess. “Uh, we can still get the gold and stuff out of the carpet, maybe?”

“It’s fine,” Michael says, “Did you think I purchased it?” He nudges Adam out of the driver’s seat and picks up Helael’s feather, twisting it in his fingers as he examines it.

“Something go wrong?” Adam asks him.

“It went very well, for the most part. Gabri and Raph are recovering well. I couldn’t find Helael, however. We’ll try again later.”

“Sure,” Adam says, but he’s hesitating a little.

“What’s wrong?” Michael wonders.

“Um,” Adam says awkwardly. “Is it necessary for the water to be so cold?”

Michael is puzzled. “It is ideal. When the water is warmer, the particles move faster. This may confuse the gate.”

“Sure,” Adam says. “It’s just, uh, cold.”

“Yes,” Michael agrees.

“I don’t know about archangels, but most humans don’t like to have their heads dunked in cold water for long periods of time,” Adam finally explains.

“It’s unpleasant,” Michael says in surprise as it clicks. “You didn’t mention this before the seance.”

“It uhh didn’t occur to me,” Adam says sheepishly. “But it sure as h- heck occurred to me after about the first five seconds.”

“I will think of a solution,” Michael promises. Now he has two things to brainstorm about. That’s two too many for someone who is retired. He cleans up the mess for Adam, and arranges a nice warm bath and hot chocolate for the miserable vessel.


	10. The song remains the same?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael and Adam become world-famous musicians.  
> Well, some of that sentence is true.

Michael is giving him strange glances as they get in the car to go shopping. It’s a little harder to feel him now that he’s in a separate artifical vessel and his grace isn’t literally brushing up against Adam’s soul, but their bond is strong enough that Adam can feel him fidgeting slightly.

“Everything okay, chief?” Adam asks, pausing before he gets in the driver’s seat. “Did you wanna drive?” Michael drives way too quickly, apparently unable to comprehend simple speed signs, so Adam doesn’t normally let him drive. But the supermarket isn’t too far away.

Michael shakes his head though. “If we have time, can we stop off somewhere on the way home?” He rattles off an address that Adam doesn’t recognise.

“Uh, sure,” Adam agrees warily. “That’s not...” Michael hasn’t made that kind of request since their return to Earth, and Adam can’t help but worry it’s something shady. “Some kind of angel business?” he decides to go with.

Michael smiles. “No, nothing shady,” he teases. Adam misses when the mind reading was less one-sided, although Michael’s generally easy to read regardless. “It’s just a shop.”

“Oh, okay,” Adam says, surprised. He was in fact so surprised that he completely forgot to ask Michael what kind of shop it was.

With their groceries purchased, Adam pulls into the street Michael told him. There’s a row of tiny shops with plain looking doors here, and the area seems pretty empty.

“You sure this is right?” he asks Michael as they get out.

“Yes,” says Michael, “I double checked it on the Internet.” Michael keeps ribbing Adam about the fact that he still naturally searches for businesses in the yellow pages, rather than on the internet like technological savant Michael.

“I am a technological savant. Thank you.” Michael leads the way into one of the lots that is identical to the rest of the row, the only distinguishing feature being the number on the arch of the doorway. There’s an echoing jingle as he pushes his way through and Adam follows him into a cramped space. The shop may have actually been pretty large if it wasn’t filled with instruments of every kind.

“Uh, Michael, this is a music shop,” Adam hisses at him. Michael beams at him in response.

“I thought it might be good to learn an instrument,” he explains happily. “We can get you one as well.”

“No, we can’t,” Adam argues. “Do you have any idea what these things cost? We’re still paying off the car.”

“Do you know how much they cost?” Michael says pointedly. “I have a job, Adam. And a credit card. It’s fine.”

Yeah, Adam doesn’t even know why he’s worrying. His stupid archangel boyfriend had arranged himself some cushy job as a structural engineer, or something, and doesn’t really spend money aside from contributing to rent and groceries and fuel. Which makes his sudden decision to come to a fucking music shop all the more bizarre. He shrugs and steps back towards a wall of instruments, hands in his pockets.

“All right. I don’t want anything, though.”

“Aww, don’t be like that.” Michael is browsing the instruments with great interest. Adam wonders where the shopkeeper is.

“What are you even getting? Do you even know how to play music?”

“It’s all mechanical. I should be fine.” Michael caresses a trumpet thoughtfully. “I plan to start with a harp. That’s the stereotypical angel instrument, isn’t it?”

A harp?? “You do you,” Adam says. “Aren’t harps meant to be kind of hard though?”

“I’m always up for a challenge,” Michael says happily. He spots the shopkeeper’s head barely above the counter at the back of the store and goes over to talk to him.

Alone, Adam has his own little browse around the store. He’d never had a chance to learn an instrument. Aside from the recorder for a couple of weeks in elementary school. Their little family just hadn’t been able to afford lessons. He brushes his hand over a dusty grand piano in the corner. He had kinda felt like he was missing out when he was little...

“And you wanted that one, Adam?” Michael asks from behind him, and he spins around.

“Uh,” Adam says, flustered like he’s been caught doing something wrong. Michael’s carrying a ginormous harp in one arm, and the tiny shopkeeper looks slightly terrified.

Michael nods at the shopkeeper. “The piano, too, please.” Adam dryly considers giving him a treat for remembering to say ‘please’ once they get home. And then he remembers that he can’t afford a fucking grand piano.

“Michael —” he tries to protest, but Michael dismisses him with a wave. No treat, then.

“Do you, er,” the shopkeeper quavers. “Require the use of our piano moving services?”

“Not at all,” Michael says, with the glinting smile of a true predator. As ever, Adam gets a little bit flushed at the sight.

**

“It’s gonna take years for me to pay you back,” Adam complains as Michael carefully rearranges the study to fit the piano and harp. “My job’s only part time, remember?”

“You don’t have to pay me back,” Michael says calmly. “It’s a gift. For the person I love.”

Adam sighs. “This isn’t, I didn’t even want it.”

Michael stiffens, his back to Adam. “You didn’t? I thought you did, and you were just being shy.” He puts the piano down, a little more roughly than necessary. “You’re mad at me?”

“Yes,” Adam says, and then, “No,” begrudgingly, cause he’s not really. “It’s cool I guess. It’s just, I don’t know. I’m gonna turn out to be really bad and it’ll be a waste.”

“I’m sure that won’t happen,” Michael says, more firmly than Adam has heard him say anything since the Cage. “You’ll be great.”

Adam stares at the piano. Well, practice makes perfect, right? He’s just having hang ups because he didn’t get the chance to learn when he was younger, he tells himself logically.

**

Adam’s abysmal to begin with, but to be honest, he’s glad that Michael is a beginner at his instrument too. Because at least Adam can try to do his songs at an appropriate speed. Michael, obsessed with getting things right, plucks every note at an intolerably slow pace to ensure his accuracy.

Adam tries to encourage him. “It’s okay to make mistakes, you’re learning.”

Michael only shakes his head, baffled. “But I’m not making mistakes.” Adam laughs. That’s his Michael.

Practice really does make perfect. Adam is delighted as he advances to two hands, and then to using chords. Michael hovers near the piano whenever he plays. If it was anyone but Michael paying him that close attention, Adam would be embarrassed. But Michael’s always so happy to watch him play, so how could Adam feel bad about it?

“I didn’t know you liked music this much,” Adam comments one day.

“Your soul sings in response to the music,” Michael explains in his ethereal way. “That’s the sound that pleases me.”

Michael steadfastly refuses to improve. Every single time he practices, he plays the same few simple songs at the same plodding pace. Adam continues to try to coax him into advancement.

“How about a new song?” Adam says, flipping further into Michael’s music book. “To get more breadth of experience into your practice.”

“I don’t know what that means,” Michael says, still slowly plucking the notes out. “And no. I’m still learning the first ones.”

“Yeah, but,” Adam hesitates. He can’t accuse a Michael of messing with him when he’s clearly trying hard, but he’s genuinely surprised Michael’s taking so long to pick it up. “It can’t hurt to try, right?”

“Adam,” Michael says, his gaze fixed on the harp. “I’m old, you know. It’s hard. I haven’t learned something like this before. Learning to use a new weapon, or a construction technique, I can pick up quickly enough. But this is entirely new to me.”

Ah, fuck. Adam isn’t meaning to be a dick. “Yeah,” he says, swallowing. “Take your time, sweetheart.”

“Besides, you have gotten very skilled at the piano now,” Michael says, a small smile creeping onto his face. “I’ll allow you to be the star of our band until I get better.”

Adam laughs. “We’re starting a band now? Um, I think I’ll stick to delivering pizzas for now. But thanks for the offer.”

Out of curiosity, they try a duet that night. But as much as Adam tries, he can’t quite slow down to Michael’s pace. “It’s okay,” he tells Michael with amusement. “Clearly a sign we complement each other too well.”

Michael leans his head on Adam’s shoulder and a hand on his chest as Adam plays them cheerful tunes into the night.


	11. Dates

Adam’s _trying_ to take Michael out on fun dates, okay.

Lunch and dinner dates are a staple, but they’re not ‘fun’, exactly. And they’ve been back on Earth long enough for Michael to decide that he doesn’t enjoy the physical sensations of chewing and swallowing, so it’s always extremely one-sided with Adam doing all the eating and talking, while Michael just sits there smiling at him.

He takes Michael ice-skating. Intending to teach him, romantically of course, but it turns out Adam’s forgotten completely and he struggles to even stand on the ice. Naturally, the bastard archangel already knows how to ice-skate and he happily takes over, gliding around the rink like he’s an Olympic figure skater. Adam pretends to sulk at the date backfiring, but honestly, it’s kinda more fun to ice-skate when someone else is doing all the hard work for you.

The aquarium trip goes way worse. Adam never really realised how dark, cramped and underground aquariums were until now. He can’t see the exits, or windows, but he’s trying hard not to freak out because Michael is quietly examining the fish with interest. He doesn’t want to ruin their date with a stupid human panic attack. He keeps his fear muffled as best he can. Michael points out a tiny blue fish and remarks, “That one reminds me of you.”

“Does it?” Adam says weakly. Michael immediately stiffens their body and Adam can feel himself being inspected. Then with a swift movement Michael has flown them out of the aquarium and they are standing on a rooftop somewhere else in the city.

“You are safe, Adam,” Michael says, and he adds, “I’m sorry for not noticing your distress.”

“It’s fine,” Adam mutters, embarrassed. “I wasn’t in distress.” Michael doesn’t call him out on the obvious lie, and they stand on the rooftop for a while, holding hands. Later, Michael flies them to Antarctica and they sit on a hill, watching penguins play.

Adam tries an amusement park next. It’s out in the open, so Adam shouldn’t fuck it up this time. (“You didn’t fuck anything up,” Michael chides gently.) He’s more worried that the rides will be too boring for someone who can literally fly at light speed, but turns out Michael loves thrill rides. His favourite is the Giant Drop. “So simple, and yet effective,” he gushes. Adam’s heart does that little flutter it always does when he finds something new that Michael likes.

Adam’s not a big fan of waiting in lines. He was hoping that Michael would do his thing and get them to the front of the line every time, but Michael sternly tells him, “We must respect the law of the park, Adam.” Adam’s not 100% sure the angel’s not just messing with him, though.

Movie dates are a flop. For one thing, Michael doesn’t have his own body yet so they can’t make out in the back row. For another, Michael gets way too invested in the plot of the movie and stares at the screen the entire time, entirely impervious to Adam’s attempts to get some affection. Even when Adam takes him to generic action movie #87. He explains to Michael that he’s completely missed the point of going to the movies, but the archangel doesn’t get it.

Adam’s favourite dates are when they’re wandering in some woods together, far away from human civilisation, but not completely alone. The native wildlife of the area making sounds all around them, some of the bigger animals curiously approaching them, like they’re Aurora in Sleeping Beauty or something. Sometimes Adam gets Michael to tell him stuff, about the trees and the birds and the magic in the air around them. But more often then not they walk in silence, the sunlight streaming down through the canopy and onto their smiling faces, wholly content in each other’s company.


	12. Power

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is just a coda to 15x17 I wrote after the episode aired, already expecting Michael's return to be lamer than necessary.

Adam is hanging his clothes to dry outside their French seaside cottage when they see the lightshow in the sky. Adam watches with quiet awe; Michael, trepidation.

“What was that?” Adam asks, after it’s over. 

“Father, peacocking. It’s almost time.” 

Now Adam is the nervous one. “Oh,” is all he can muster up the strength to say. Michael is not a fan of this plan either, but they agreed something had to be done.

Michael takes control of their body and heads inside. He checks on Death’s body, held in stasis and carefully placed in their closet. Michael had silently removed her once Father’s story had taken its attention off of her. But he couldn’t kill her without drawing attention. He needs a boom to cover the bang.

Michael has eyes all over Earth, but it’s the tiny benevolent spirits he had befriended while being held prisoner in the Bunker that end up being the most useful spies. They whisper to him as the Antichrist leaves, and as Dark traps Light there. Michael notes down that the Empty is looking for Death. That is an issue that will need to be dealt with sooner rather than later.

His chance comes when his Father merges with Amara. With the precision that comes with thirteen billion years of experience, Michael expertly disintegrates the captured Reaper and reclaims the power of Death he bequeathed to the first one all those millennia ago. It’s not particularly pleasant.

“Are you okay?” Adam says. “Feel like I just swallowed a ball of dust.”

“I’m sorry,” Michael says. If he and Adam were so closely bonded now that Adam was forced to partake in such sensations, perhaps he should put the boy back to sleep.

“Not without my permission,” Adam reminds him. “And no.”

That’s fine.

Michael consumes Death’s scythe as well. An extension of power he doesn’t require. Besides, this is the 21st century. He should be using 21st century weapons. He heads downstairs, to his workshop in the basement. On the shelf next to the smithy are a range of guns Michael has crafted. Mere prototypes. He didn’t have the strength to make the actual product until now. 

It will still be a struggle. He has small pockets of power tied into various things all across the universe, but none of them are enough power to be worth causing structural instability by removing them. Death’s will have to do.

He gets to work. He can only hope Father amuses himself with his toys long enough for Michael to finish crafting his weapon. If the universe is destroyed before Michael seals away his time, there won’t be any point. 

“I don’t like this,” Adam says. His ghost is sitting on the workbench, hands clasped tightly in his lap.

“Sealing Father’s time is the safest-” 

“No, no, I’m on board with that,” Adam assures him. “But when you ate Death, your grace got really cold. I was hoping it would warm back up but I’m freezing.”

Michael chuckles, but takes care to keep his focus on his handiwork. “I’m sorry. If it makes you feel any better, my grace just went from supernova to room temperature. So once your soul adjusts, it should be even more comfortable than before.”

“I don’t wanna adjust,” Adam whines, and Michael would be worried but there’s no real distress behind it. Complaining about minor things is how humans relieve tension, Adam has told him. And they are both very tense right now.

As he weaves the power of time through the metal of the gun, he inscribes every word of their playful bickering on his own heart. This is what he’s fighting for. 


	13. confession

the desire to be needed -

it is michael’s sin.

he works himself to the bone in the vain hopes of being appreciated, being relied upon, being noticed -

he is taken for granted, and it is good enough. it has to be, because he is not offered anything better.

he confesses his sin to adam. adam looks down at his angel, his disciple, his lamb -

(he could have left michael. when they left the cage. michael offered and maybe michael deserved it. but who did michael have, other than adam? he couldn’t abandon him to the wolves.)

and whispers, “i know. it is my sin, too.”

(for who did adam have, other than michael?)


End file.
